A Wrinkle In Time Saves More Than Nine
by NanaHassan
Summary: The battle has been won. But what happens when the trio is sent back to the era of the Marauders by Voldemort's last defence? Expect to find: a half-naked Sirius, Marauder mischief and lots of trouble for our favourite trio to get into. Side effects may include: uncontrollable laughter and some tears. Read at your own peril.
1. Chapter 1

"_Crucio!_"

The spell flew over Hermione's head, narrowly missing her singed hair. As she deftly dodged another of Bellatrix's curses, she was aware of Harry and Voldemort battling it out just next to her and Ginny.

"Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix screamed, her wand pointed at Ginny. Luckily, the spell missed.

However, it did not miss the bull's eye on the Weasley matriarch's temper. Her normally sweet voice was harsh and brittle as it swore. "Not my daughter you _bitch_."

The devastating spell hit the center of Bellatrix's chest and she collapsed to the dirty floor of the Great Hall.

Hermione turned to watch Harry and Voldemort dance around each other, not registering the words they were exchanging. Across from here she could see Ron, his eyes following the pair as well.

In a matter of seconds, Harry had the Elder wand and Voldemort was on the floor. But the battle was not over. Because a terrible pain had ripped through Hermione's head. She collapsed to the floor, and could see through her tear-filled vision that Harry and Ron had fallen to their knees as well.

Then there was nothing but a blinding flash of white followed by acute and excruciating darkness.

When Hermione came to, she could see nothing but a rocky ceiling. Her body hurt, as if every inch of it was covered in bruises. Upon opening her mouth, nothing came out but a long groan that was echoed by two others.

"Harry…Ron," she croaked.

Something moved in her vision and Harry's untidy black hair came into view. "Hermione! _Ouch_. Ron!"

"Bloody hell," came the not-too-happy voice of Ron. He sat up as well, shortly followed by Hermione. Every move hurt for the trio, and their heads swiveled amongst themselves as each took in the damaged appearance of the other two.

"My, my, looks like we've gotten ourselves in a pickle."

"Dumbledore!"

And it was indeed Dumbledore that stood in front of them, with his ever-long beard, half-moon glasses and spangled robes. There were less wrinkles on his face, but that twinkle in his X-raying eyes was the same.

"Yes, yes, that is what they call me. Though I do sometimes wonder if I would have been better off as an 'Arnold' or possibly 'Bagshawar', they both reflect deeper personalities than _Albus_. Hmm, I wonder why my dear mother gave me that name. She was a bit odd, that old witch, bless her…"

Harry, Ron and Hermione's eyes were bugging out. They looked over their supposedly-dead headmaster, wondering how in Merlin's saggy left eyebrow he could be standing before them off on an understood-by-Dumbles-only rant.

He was nearing the end of his monologue. "…Ah well, Albus I've been named and Albus I shall stay. The more interesting question is, what are you three called?"

Harry gulped, rising to his feet before helping Hermione up. Ron stayed on the ground as he eyed Dumbledore as if he was a figment of his imagination.

"Professor," started Harry, voice unsure, "h-how is it possible that you're alive?"

"Well, God wills it and so I am. Am I not supposed to be alive, young Mr.-?"

"Potter," Harry spoke without thinking. Hermione's elbow in his side made him realize his mistake.

Dumbledore's silver eyebrows knit together in confusion. "There is only one Potter right now, and he is just about to begin his seventh year at Hogwarts. Are you related to him perchance?"

"What he means to say sir, is: What is the current date, may I ask?" Hermione intervened, the cogs in her brain working overtime.

"It is August 31st of 1977, of course."

And then the world turned black for Hermione Granger once more.


	2. Chapter 2

So I forgot to put in a disclaimer in the last chapter!

Disclaimer: I think disclaimers are stupid. Because honestly! The website is called 'FANFICTION' not 'IAMJKR'. But yeah, I am so not JKR.

_Maybe it was a dream. Maybe when I wake up, the battle will be won and I will be resting in my Gryffindor four-poster bed. _

These were the hopeful thoughts that filled Hermione's head as she regained consciousness. Her small hands were fisted around a rather soft bed spread, and her head was supported by a soft and lumpy pillow. Her eyes blinked against the bright white light that shone into her eyes.

"Look, Ron, she's waking up!" Harry's voice whispered. For the past half-hour, he and Ron have been watching her for any signs of cognizance. They had both watched as Dumbledore himself picked her up (he was surprisingly strong for such a frail-looking man) and strode to the infirmary. Ron had grabbed Harry's torn and bloodied shirt and hauled both of them behind Dumbledore.

At the infirmary, they were greeted by a youthful Madam Pomfrey, who fretted over them as soon as she caught sight of their disheveled appearance. The boys absolutely refused to be treated until Hermione woke up, both marveling at how unscathed the little bit of castle they'd seen had looked. Neither Harry's brain nor Ron's could absorb the fact that they were in 1977. In fact, they had both come to the conclusion that this was a dream conjured by their extreme exhaustion and desire to go back to an undestroyed Hogwarts full of live magical folk, not the corpses of those they had known.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ron asked. It was such an idiotic question, but how normal it was to hear coming out of Ron calmed her frayed nerves. She pulled herself up and glanced at her two best friends, hoping beyond imagination that she was in 1998 resting in the infirmary.

However, a cursory glance around her showed that Dumbledore was inspecting what seemed to be a handful of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans with a critical expression that better suited a persecutor.

Flitting around the mostly infirmary was a young-looking Pomona Pomfrey. She was pacing the stone floors with an anxious manner of sorts, every now and then casting a curious eye at the three newcomers.

"But…b-but we just can't be in 1977! You had just beaten Voldemort, Harry!" Hermione squeaked distractedly.

"I know," Harry soothed. "We better stick to one another though until we find out what's going on."

By that point, Dumbledore had picked a pink bean spotted with crimson dots. Popping it into his mouth and chewing, an odd grimace graced his face. "Newt liver. Disgusting really, but much better than vomit. Mind you I had one of those before and it tasted simply awful." He noticed that Hermione had woken up. "Ah, good. Now would you three tell me what brings you to Hogwarts a day before the term starts?"

Ron pushed Harry forward, urging him to speak, which he did.

"Professor Dumbledore, my name is Harry Potter and I'm the son of James and Lily Potter. These here are Ronald Weasley son of Molly and Arthur Weasley, and Hermione Granger.

"We had been in the midst of a battle in Hogwarts between the Order of the Phoenix and Voldemort's followers. I had just defeated Voldemort when I experienced horrible pains then blacked out. The three of us woke up here, where you found us and told us that it's the year 1977, not 1998."

During Harry's explanation, Dumbledore had conjured an armchair and settled down in it, hands forming a steeple in front of his wizened face. His blue eyes had stared at them knowingly from above his glasses, head nodding silently in assent.

"Well that is curious indeed. I take it you three have never time-travelled before?"

Ron nodded while Harry and Hermione shook their heads. Hermione felt obligated to explain: "In our third year I had to use a time turner to cope up with all the classes I was taking. Then Harry and I used it that same year to rescue Sirius Black from persecution by Minister Cornelius Fudge."

The old man's eyebrows had risen as she mentioned Sirius. He said nothing for a while.

"According to you three, you belong twenty one years into the future. Has a time turner of sort been used on you prior to waking up here?"

"No," Ron spoke up. "Blimey, Harry had just defeated Voldemort with the Elder wand when I felt the same pain Harry told you about."

"That certainly complicates things. Normally, no time turner has enough power to turn back the time for two decades. I have come across a few time-travelling spells but none this potent. It seems you three have a unique case, more unique than a pack of non-repulsive Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans really."

"But how will we get back to our time?" cried all three in unison. It was a rare moment where the Golden Trio harnessed their not-usually-similar mindset towards one goal.

"Ah my dears, that indeed is a question that will take time to answer."

"In the meanwhile Albus," started the voice of Madam Pomfrey, who had until then gone unnoticed by the trio and the headmaster, "it may be well for me to treat them. They seem to have been through hell and back!"

"Yes, go ahead Poppy. After you are done healing them, would you send them to my office? The password is Chocolate Banana Frogs." And with those words said, Dumbledore departed the infirmary with a flourish of his spangled robes.

"Odd one, that bloke. Brilliant, but odd," Ron's voice broke the quiet.

Madam Pomfrey smiled ever so slightly. "While that may be, it will have no business curing your wounds Mr. Weasley."'

For the next hour or so, the kind nurse set about healing and cleaning them up as best as she could. Through her long and extensive medical experience, she had never seen anyone so badly hurt in all the ways it was possible to be hurt. They were burned, scarred, bruised, cut, singed, infected, broken and damaged almost beyond repair.

The witch had an ugly scar running the length of her inner arm, the cuts spelling out MUDBLOOD in horrific letters. Madam Pomfrey could see that this girl was a fighter.

The boys both had either burns or lacerations around their necks, as if they had been wearing collars that scraped at their flesh.

After she had healed them up as best as possible, she sent them to the headmaster's office, all the while muttering about the dangers of not giving their tired bodies a rest.

"What d'you think will happen now?" Hermione asked, her arms hugging her sides.

Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks above her head. "I don't really know, Hermione, but I'm sure Dumbledore will find a way to send us back. Or forth."

They all cracked weak smiles before rolling back their shoulders and stepping forward on to the revolving steps.

"Enter," Dumbledore's kindly voice floated through the big wooden door. Harry dropped his hand- he hadn't even knocked.

On the inside, Dumbledore's office was exactly as it was twenty years or so in the future. Odd, spinning silver contraptions whizzed noiselessly in their place, row after row of previous Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses lining the wall behind Dumbledore's chair. Fawkes was lightly snoozing on his perch. It was as if nothing had changed.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, I'm delighted to see you all looking spiffier than before. I take Poppy took care of you well? Yes, yes of course. Now, what to do about your dilemma…"

From experience, Harry, Ron and Hermione knew to not interrupt Dumbledore when he was thinking out loud.

"It shall solve itself in time I guess," he finally concluded. "Oh dear, but what to do about you three? Have a seat, have a seat. Licorice snaps?"

Ron took one. It was decision he regretted as soon as the tricky little buggers bit his upper lip.

Hermione interrupted. "Professor, what are we going to do?"

"For the time being, Miss Granger, I shall arrange for accommodation for you three. I suppose you can stay in Hogwarts for a while as I figure out how to send you back?" All three nodded. "Splendid. You will attend the Welcome Feast tomorrow along with all returning and new students, then you will spend the night in your house. Oh, but what house is that, hm?"

Without hesitation, Harry, Ron and Hermione said, quite clearly: "Gryffindor."

A beatific smile graced Dumbledore's eyes as his eyes twinkled in delight. "Where dwell the brave at heart! Your dorms will be ready by tonight. I strongly suggest you three get some sleep- maybe a sleeping draught from Poppy? Yes, that ought to do the trick. Off you go now."

It was clear dismissal. With tired gaits, the three Gryffindors trumped their way back to the infirmary, where they requested three glasses of sleeping draught. Each took up a bed before downing the contents in their glass. They were out faster than you could say 'Weasley is our king'.

Hey guys! Thanks for the lovely reviews. So encouraging, yes they were. Why am I writing disjointed sentences? Must be the late hour. Meh.

So! Whaaaat did you think of this chapter? They get to meet the Marauders and Lily in the next one, so keep your eyes peeled! Also, sorry for shortness. It shall get better, I promise.

Say…5 reviews to the next chapter? Reviews are love and I need a lot of that to write more.


	3. Chapter 3

Well, here it is: the long-awaited (not really) third chapter where our befuddled trio meets the Marauders, Lily and Severus Snape! I really hope you guys like this.

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to RoseFeather for putting up with my annoying a**. I love you, darling Louie. And I really did miss you, so this is something of an apology. =)

SO without further ado, I present: The Third Chapter.

It was well past four o'clock in the afternoon when Hermione came to. She was still tired, but she guessed that her fatigue had something to do with the emotional trauma of the past year. But, now that she was in the past, shouldn't it be 'the emotional trauma of the two-decades-away year?

Not in the mood for the vicious cycle that line of thought would take her through, she finally glanced around the hospital wing. She deduced that it was rather late from the slant of the sunlight coming through the window. On the cots on either side of her, were Ron and Harry, both just rousing from their sleep. The sleeping draught had done a marvelous job of keeping them under.

"Oh. You're finally up!" Madam Pomfrey was standing at the foot of Hermione's cot. "Good, Albus has been waiting for you three. But first, you need to shower." She indicated to the three Gryffindor uniforms hanging on a suspended rack hanging mid-air.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Hermione pulled herself out of the cot and stumbled on unsteady feet. Harry, who had just climbed out of bed himself, grabbed her arm to prevent her face from kissing the floor.

"Ah yes," the kindly nurse smiled, her eyes taking in the scene as Ron got up as well and the three of them huddled together. "The prefect bathroom on the third floor is free for your perusal, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, you may use the Head Boy bathroom on the fifth floor. All your garments are on this rack."

Hermione grabbed her uniform and the sack labeled HG, hugging the uniform to her chest. It was so strange to be holding a Gryffindor uniform, to have the knowledge that she will be attending classes and becoming, once more, a student. It brought back her nervousness when she was just beginning Hogwarts as a first year. All the butterflies, the worries that she wasn't good enough, that this was just a joke… it all overwhelmed her for a second before Ron pulled her in for a short hug.

"It will be okay, 'Mione," he whispered. Harry came and stood next to them. " I know it will. How can it not, when you're the brightest witch of your age and Harry is the Boy Who Lived?"

"And you're the Boy That Helped Bring Voldemort Down. I'm sure between the three of us, we can make the most out of this…" Harry trailed off. He offered them a slight smile that helped ease their internal struggle.

Hermione then giggled. She was slap-happy, but it was only slightly so. "Oh yes, but we're not much good smelling like we do now, huh?"

They reached the prefects bathroom quickly enough, each carrying their own change of clothes. Hermione had insisted they accompany her and wait outside while she bathed. According to her logic, she did not want to be left alone as she was afraid of not finding them again. The war had obviously left its damage.

Harry and Ron slumped against the wall on either side of the door of the bathroom. They were so incredibly tired, and though Madam Pomfrey had stitched them up to the best of her ability, they felt deep pain, both physically and emotionally, at the losses suffered. Ron was first to break the silence.

"I can't believe- Fred- no more-" he spoke disjointedly. He couldn't accept the fact that his brother, George's twin, the ever-lively wizard, was _dead_. It was impossible to not feel as if it was just a cruel joke, that Fred would pop out from behind a pillar and say 'Gotcha! Fooled ya didn't I? Aw, I didn't know you loved me so much, Ronnikiens.' Or something along those lines.

Then came the hard-to-grasp thought of being twenty one years back in the past. They were in the Marauders' seventh year. Harry's mum and dad were alive, along with a young Sirius, Remus, Pettigrew and Snape.

"I know," consoled Harry. He couldn't believe the death of the fun-loving prankster had actually happened, not to mention the fact that he would be seeing his parents alive and well in less than three hours. All these things were, in fact, confounding and painful to think of simultaneously.

"But you know, we're in the past now…" trailed off Harry, a seemingly ridiculous idea forming in his head. "Maybe we can change that! Ron, don't you see? We can make sure no one ever died! Mum, Dad, Sirius, Remus, Tonks…Dumbledore! We can stop all this from happening by killing Voldemort now."

The Boy Who Lived was soon lost in his thoughts of changing the future just as Ron was consumed by thoughts of grief for his dead brother. Oh, how vexed they both were!

The door to the bathroom creaked open and out stepped Hermione, dressed in the Gryffindor uniform she would've been wearing had she been back in her own time and there wasn't a war going on, or just ending, really. She looked clean, her hair tied back in a rubber band to keep it out of her face, but there were lines of utter and complete sadness etched into her young face.

"Boys?" she asked, as neither had looked up when she came out. "Harry, Ron?"

They snaped to attention, rising to their feet hurriedly. "C'mon Ron, let's get clean," Harry murmured. Hermione trailed behind them as she was to wait for them outside. Being alone in the empty castle terrified her, and she was extremely grateful that she still had her wand. As Harry and Ron left her to clean up, the conjured a patronus to keep her company.

She didn't know when it had changed, but sometime after their break-in into the ministry, her lovely otter had transformed into a shapeless blob that floated around her happily. Tears pricked her eyes as she mourned the loss of one of the few constants in her life. Her beloved otter was officially gone.

It was an hour later that the boys emerged, finally clean and in their Hogwarts uniforms. The three of them finally looked like their true selves again, if you forget the fact that they were as twenty one years back from their own time.

"Finally," Hermione groaned, rising to her feet. Her patronus had disappeared long back as her thoughts had turned to less-than-happy thoughts.

"Sorry," Ron said. "It was just hard to wash up well enough with how little energy we have. Do you realize we haven't eaten a thing since before the battle?" And as if to emphasize his point, his stomach growled loudly.

"To the kitchens then, I suppose?" asked Harry dryly, quirking an eyebrow at Ron's misbehaving stomach.

In the kitchens, eager house elves swarmed around them, each offering a wide variety of items.

"Would you like some treacle tart, Miss?" one asked.

Another smiled crookedly. "Misty makes the best ice cream, would you like to try Misters and Miss?"

Ron grinned. "Can I have some chicken drumsticks? And a glass of pumpkin juice, thanks."

Immediately, two house elves set off to prepare his order. Harry and Hermione dragged him to a table, where they sat heavily, and asked for whatever they were hungry for. Which in Hermione's case was, oddly enough, a cream puff. Harry just chose meatloaf and a glass of water.

The trio wolfed down their food quickly, asking for second helping which the house-elves were all-too-happy to serve. Even Hermione gobbled down most of her food half-chewed. A battle generally did that to a person.

Therefore, it was rather late when they exited the kitchens. They could just hear the sounds of many feet echoing from somewhere in the castle. The students had arrived.

With dread lingering in their stomachs, Harry, Ron and Hermione ran to Dumbledore's office, where they were met with a frumpy-looking Minerva McGonagall.

"You three must be Potter, Weasley and Granger. Very well. I'm Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore asked me to escort you to the Great Hall. For security reason, the Weasleys and Potters have been called and informed of your unique situation. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley will be posing as third-cousins of your respective families. Miss Granger, it has been decided, will be herself completely, as she is a muggleborn. Am I understood?"

They nodded, and Professor McGonagall showed her approval by 'hm-ing' slightly in her brisk, no-nonsense voice. There really wasn't much change in her over the years, except possibly an increasing ugliness in her choice of tartan gowns.

She gave them a grim smile. "Well then, off you trot. Headmaster Dumbledore will be waiting for you in the Great Hall."

The watched her retreating back for a second before spinning to march to the Great Hall. There was much tension crackling in the air between them as they bravely made their way.

The entire Great Hall turned around to watch as the huge wooden doors creaked open. They all wondered who could possibly be coming in so late.

Hermione grabbed Ron and Harry's hands as the doors opened, giving them a quick squeeze before releasing them. They were now in full view of all the Houses and the teachers table. A hush fell on the assembled as Dumbledore rose and smiled jovially.

"Welcome, students! Now that we are done with the sorting, I deem it safe to move on to other topics. I hope you all had a wonderfully non-academic summer-" his gaze seemed to twinkle over four students of Gryffindor in particular "-and practiced breaking the rules."

Many laughed, the teachers rolling their eyes at Dumbledore's eccentricities.

"As you may have noticed," his voice calmed down the titters here and there, "we have three new students this year! Please all join me in welcoming Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger of Gryffindor."

Rambunctious applause erupted at the Gryffindor table at the prospect of having the three new students.

However, at the far end of the Gryffindor table from the doors, four seventh years echoed: "Harry _Potter_?"

Dumbledore seemed to have heard them, and they turned accusing eyes on the old man. The Hall quieted down long enough to hear the Headmaster's response.

"Well, Mr. Potter, you will have to ask _that_ question to your mother," Dumbledore replied genially.

As soon as Harry heard Dumbledore say 'Mr. Potter', he faltered on his way to a seat. Ron and Hermione stopped beside him long enough to grab his arms and lead him to the only empty seats at the Gryffindor table. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you decide to look at it, the only three seats were close to the four people they wanted to avoid the most. The Marauders.

"Oi, mate, tell me how you're a Potter? As far as I knew, I was the only one," cried a slightly indignant James Potter. He was an identical copy of Harry, except his eyes were hazel not emerald green, and his nose was just the tiniest bit longer. "You look like me too!"

"Yeah," agreed a young Sirius Black. He looked so clean, so young, so happy! The trio could not believe that this was the same man that was locked up in Azkaban for twelve years.

It was evident that Harry was not going to respond anytime soon, as he was staring at James as though he was a rare bug or possibly a deadly plague. Hermione intervened.

"Oh, he's actually the nephew of Lady Dorea, your mother. She had a sister, did she not?" she replied in her most innocuous voice, eyes wide and innocent.

James and Sirius's eyes narrowed, but not with the same emotion. James' in confusion, Sirius' in glee.

"Well, hello there," he purred smoothly, extending his hand to shake hers. "I'm Sirius Black. And I assume you are Hermione Granger, the new beauty of Gryffindor?"

Hermione gave him a faint smile, still marveling over the fact that this was the man she helped save on the back of a Hippogriff. She made to shake his hand but he grabbed hers and kissed the back of it. "Pleasure," she murmured, retracting her hand quickly.

"Distant cousin, eh?" James asked. "Well, we'll find that out soon enough. But it's nice to meet you; my name is James Potter." He shook hands with all three of them, Harry still staring at him numbly.

A brown-haired boy with deep brown eyes and an easy smile proffered his hand next. "Remus Lupin. A pleasure, I'm sure."

Once more, a round of hand-shaking occurred. Hermione could hardly believe that this young man with handsome features was her future professor and friend.

Lastly, it was Peter Pettigrew's turn to introduce himself. When he mentioned his name, a visible change overcame Harry. His face tensed, anger sparking in his brilliant eyes. He seemed to be having an internal struggle that the Marauders could only guess at.

"Well, I'm Hermione Granger and these are Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. It's very nice to meet you all," Hermione announced in a brittle voice. Tears were forming in her eyes as she took in the young men whose futures she knew to be terrible. Ron squeezed her hand under the table.

James spoke up. "Merlin's beard, it's odd to hear someone else called Potter. That'll take some getting used to!"

Sirius chuckled. "Wouldn't want Lily falling for another Potter, eh? Well, I always thought you were daft for thinking she could ever like you, Prongs, when I was clearly available."

"Sod off, Padfoot, before I hex you into last Tuesday," James growled. He looked apologetically at the three new students. "You'll have to excuse Black here, he seems to think he's God's gift to women."

"Oi! I resent that! Mind you, if that weren't true, then half of Hogwarts' female population wouldn't be begging for Hogsmead dates with me, Potter."

"Well then, why did Marlene reject you so publicly if you were so bloody amazing, huh?"

"I say she must have had a concussion from being hit by a bludger one too many times," grinned Sirius, effectively ending the topic.

Remus had been watching Harry, Ron and Hermione watch the exchange as though it was a tennis match. "Oh shut it you two, you'll scare them off. Can't you put your bickering aside for a few moments of peace while we eat?"

A new voice entered the conversation. It was a cool voice, tinged with sarcasm. "You know as well as I do Remus that these two can't keep their fat gobs shut for more than a minute without saying something ridiculous," said Lily Evans, a red eyebrow rising.

Harry blanched further at the sight of his mother. She was as beautiful as she was in those pictures he had. Her red hair shone brilliantly, her eyes positively striking against her porcelain features. They were the same eyes Harry had, down to the last stroke of emerald green.

The beautiful girl slid next to Hermione, putting her hand out to shake. "Lily Evans, nice to meet you. I hope you haven't been getting spoiled by those twats?"

To her own surprise, Hermione laughed. Lily Evans, she decided, was a person she would come to like, and very easily. "Oh, we're not that easily spoiled, I should like to think."

James' face lit up considerably, Ron noted, when Lily arrived. "Oh but Lilypad, you wound me! Padfoot, take me to Madam Pomfrey, for I am in too much pain to reach the hospital wing on my own."

"Get over yourself," Lily rolled her eyes. "Well, I warn you from now, do not get mixed up with these four, they're never up to any good." Her gaze roamed disparagingly over the Marauders.

"And here I thought we were friends, Evans," sighed Sirius sadly, only to receive a sharp slap to the back of his head.

Remus had joined the fun. "You know I'm the only decent one from you lot, you prick."

"She's turned Lupin!" yelped Sirius. "Get her away, get her away Prongs! Or her disease will spread to us all!"

Ron then spoke without thinking. "Doesn't look like James would mind being infected much, really."

Remus chocked on his pumpkin juice as Sirius and Peter roared with laughter. James just stared at Lily in a sickeningly cute way, who had a furious red blush rising to her hairline.

Dumbledore stood up and clapped his hands together. The food disappeared, leaving empty tables behind. "Well, I bid you goodnight!"

There was great noise as everyone got up and filed put of the Great Hall. Harry, Ron and Hermione were separated from the Marauders and Lily. They followed he stream of Gryffindor students to the Gryffindor tower, where they learned the password to be Draconis Philia.

The common room was the same, a welcoming, warm haven where they had spent so many nights around the roaring fire. It now crackled merrily in a corner. Feelings of being home filled the Golden Trio.

Hermione split from harry and Ron up to the seventh-year girls dormitory. Four girls were already in bed, talking in whispers before drifting to sleep one by one. Hermione thought she'd introduce herself tomorrow. All she wanted right now was to get some sleep.

But sleep didn't come. Hermione heard Lily sneak in after her Head Girl rounds and slip in to her bed. Half an hour after that and Hermione still couldn't sleep. It was getting pretty late.

After tossing and turning for quite some time, she crept out of bed and grabbed her wand, tip-toeing to the door, before slowly descending the stairs. She then crossed the empty common room and climbed up the staircase to the dormitory of the seventh year boys. There she found that two extra beds have been added for Ron and Harry.

Hermione had never done this before, but the fear clutching her heart was too great to allow her to sleep otherwise. Therefore, she steeled herself and quietly climbed into bed with Harry, trying not to wake him up.

He did, however. "Hermione? What are you dong here? Are you hurt?"

In the dark, her voice was timid. "I couldn't sleep. Sorry for waking you up."

"No problem. Just wait a sec." Harry then proceeded to get out of bed and walk over to Ron's, where he woke up the redhead.

"Wuzzit? Are the spiders here?" he asked sleepily.

"Get up you git," Harry shoved him out of bed. Then he spelled the bed to silently levitate next to Harry's where they formed one big bed. They both got in with Hermione in the middle, drawing up the covers around all three of them.

"Goodnight Harry, Ron," the brightest witch of her age whispered, safe between her two best friends.

"Night 'Mione," they both murmured.

And with that, the Golden Trio fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

**So! What do you think? Must say I'm not too fond of this chapter. Came out a little bit 'eh'.**

**Remember, reviews are luuurve! So if you want more, please leave me what you think in a review. Pretty please with a cherry on top? =)**

**Think we could get 10 reviews for the next chapter to come quicker? ;)**

**B-t-dubs, this is completely unedited so good luck reading this!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh, hello there! My lovely, lovely readers, I beg you not to hate me for making you wait so long! It was quite unintentional, I assure you. But I present to you: The fourth chapter! Huzzah, right?**

**Enjoy, but not too much, as that could get dangerous. Now I'll leave you to read.**

* * *

><p>There was a strange noise. It was strange and loud, thereby waking Hermione up from one of the most comfortable sleeps she has had over the past year. Being on the run for a year does that to a person.<p>

Stretching her arms out to the side, her hands hit two decidedly human lumps. Her eyes flew open, and a gasp escaped her lips. A quick glance around revealed that she was in the double bed created by Harry last night, and beside her lay the twats she called her best friends. Both were snoring lightly. Harry's arms were wrapped around Hermione's waist, while Ron's legs were slightly tangled with hers.

The noise that woke her up alerted her to the fact that she was in the seventh year boys' dormitory in nothing but a sleeping gown that wasn't very modest. Voices could be heard outside the drawn curtains.

"Rise and shine, sleepyheads!" sang Sirius as he pulled back the curtains, expecting to find the newbies sleeping.

They _were_ sleeping, but were closely molded to their pretty witch friend, who was dressed in a white almost-see-through gown that reached her knees but was tangled around her thighs. And my, what lovely thighs they were.

"Hermione! What," he exclaimed, "are you doing in bed with these two! Lost your way, have you?"

The blushing girl struggled to free herself from Harry and Ron's grasps. _Oh, perfect. _She fumed, _now Sirius will think I'm some sort of slag. What's his problem with manners, anyway?_

"Good morning Sirius," she forced a smile. Getting up, Hermione tugged on her gown and hoped off the bed. The movement jostled Harry.

"Wuzappenin'?"

"Blarghspiderzno."

"Oh get up you two!" Hermione cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation at the sleeping boys. "It's time to wake up."

Harry was the first to get up. "Gosh Hermione, couldn't you have let us sleep some more?"

Ron mumbled sleepily, "yeah," before raising his head to look around the bright dormitory then allowing his face to mash back in his pillow. "And while you're at it, either close the curtains and get in, or close the curtains and stay out."

Of course his voice was rather muffled, so no one truly understood what he was trying to say. By then Sirius had gathered James, Remus and Peter, who ogled Hermione in a way that made her want to cross her arms over her chest.

Harry had gotten up and shoved his glasses onto his face. Noticing Hermione's discomfort, he quickly diverted the attention of the sniggering teenage animagi onto himself. "What time is it? Shouldn't we be on our way to breakfast?"

"It's 7:30." Remus answered. "And yeah, just about time really. Sirius here came to wake you up when he spotted Hermione, er, sleeping between you and Ron."

Sirius, for his part, merely wiggled his eyebrows at Hermione, a sly grin forming on his handsome face. "Nice slip, Granger."

"Shut it, Black," the blushing witch replied. Hermione then turned her attention towards Harry. "Harry, I'll go get changed. Meet you and Ron in the common room in five minutes?"

"Yeah," he replied. She turned and walked away, inadvertently pulling the gaze of every boy in the room, excluding the still snoozing Ron, to her delectably swaying form. Her nightgown was really nothing more than a slip, and Harry was sure it didn't originally belong to Hermione, as he had known her for seven years and she had never worn anything like that to bed.

Of course, a small voice whispered in his head, she would never dare to wear that in the Burrow and being on the run didn't make her really able to wear such things to bed, now did it?

Harry snapped back to himself just in time to hear Sirius's comment.

"Looks like we've got a feisty one on our hands, boys."

Harry couldn't agree more.

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><p>Ten minutes later, Harry, Hermione, Ron and the Marauders were seated at the Gryffindor table enjoying breakfast.<p>

"So, whaaclasheshjooyewhaff'ermione'arryron?" Sirius asked through a mouthful of bacon.

At everyone's confused looks, Remus sighed and translated. "What classes do you three have?"

Hermione, prim and proper in her Gryffindor uniform, pondered the question for a while. It was weird, having breakfast in the Great Hall, sleeping in Gryffindor Tower, thinking about her schedule for the week. Though it was only a year back –or forth, strangely enough- Sixth year seemed so far away to her. The suspicion, Harry's obsession with Draco and the Death Eaters, Cormac McLaggen, Ron and Lavender…all of it seemed so long back, like a distant dream that grew hazier with each passing day. The pain of Dumbledore's death, however, was still as fresh as if it had happened yesterday, as well as the pain of knowing her parents had forgotten her and the pain of all the life lost in the Battle of Hogwarts.

What really hurt though, was Harry's self-sacrifice. When she heard that Harry had been captured, and killed, it felt as if her heart stopped. That moment, Hermione felt as if she was in a glass orb held in someone's hand. Suddenly, the orb was dropping. The fall was high- and it was all Hermione could do from shutting down completely as her world came crashing around her into irreparable shards.

She had screamed, she had cried, but not once did she think she would give up the fight. If she had, the Harry would have died in vain, and his loss would have been for nothing. So she doubled her efforts in battling the Death Eaters around her, determined to squash every one of them as if they were bugs on her windshield. And she wanted her windshield clean very, very badly.

Harry's voice broke through her reverie, and she blinked as she realized she was being asked a question.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked her, his eyes bright green and full of worry. She supposed she'd be worried too if he suddenly stopped functioning and got lost in his thoughts.

She smiled sheepishly at him, ducking her head to avoid his gaze. "Sorry, I guess I was just thinking."

"No problem," Remus smiled at her. "It's not every day you have to move across the country and change schools so abruptly. How are you guys liking Hogwarts?"

Ron, bless him, swallowed a huge mouthful of food and grinned at the werewolf. "Brilliant, it's just bloody brilliant." He then directed a wink at his two best mates, his mouth lifting up in a conspiratorial smile.

James decided to butt in with a very useful piece of information. "You know," the Head Boy murmured secretively to his breakfast companions, "There have been murmurs around the school. It is thought that this year Hogwarts will be hosting the _Triwizard Tournament_!"

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><p>After the horrible words were uttered, Harry face lost all it's colour. Ron choked on his pumpkin juice and Hermione let out a small shriek.<p>

The Marauders apparently found their expressions hilarious, for they burst into hysterical laughter. "Your faces! Oh Merlin and Circe you're faces were comical!"

Hermione gulped, her hand shooting to Harry's, clutching it tightly. "That was _not_ funny, you prats!"

Her voice was harsh and low, causing the boys in front of her to stop laughing and stare at her weirdly. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and her entire frame shook as she recalled the horrors Harry had gone through, the fights with Ron, the hour she couldn't remember spent under water and finally, Harry sobbing over Cedric's dead body.

"It was just a joke, Hermione," James spluttered, worried by her obvious rage and fear.

"Well it wasn't a very good one," she seethed. Harry and Ron both exchanged a look over her head, understanding her anger. They had all suffered terribly during that year.

A red-headed girl chose that moment to glide into the conversation. "I told you Potter that one day you're going to put your foot in your mouth. What have you done now?"

"Nothing!" Peter yelped. "We were just joking about the Triwizard Tournament!"

Lily rolled her eyes in disgust. "Why would anyone joke about that? It is a horrible thing, that Tournament, and it was cancelled for good reason. So many people died because of it!"

Ron placed his arm around Hermione. "Yeah mate, not something to joke about over breakfast. Even I have more sense than that."

His comment caused a slight smile to break over Hermione's face. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. "And Ron has the emotional range of a tea spoon!"

The trio broke out in guffaws as they recalled Harry's description of his kiss with Cho- _wet_- and Ron's emotional range- _tea spoon-big_. The Marauders and Lily eyed them weirdly, wondering what could be so funny.

The rest of breakfast passed peacefully- or as peacefully as possible when four animagi where trying to eat up the entire Gryffindor table and Lily was trying to get James to act like a half-decent Head Boy. ("Honestly Potter! You're Head Boy now, you should be too old for these antics!")

When it was time to go to class, Harry stopped Ron and Hermione for a small talk. "Listen guys, I need to tell you what happened when I went to Voldemort in the woods. Meet me in the Room of Requirements after dinner?"

Ron glanced at Hermione before nodding his assent.

"Of course, Harry."

The raven-haired boy-almost-man smiled. "Great. We should get to class now, huh?"

And it was with heavy yet excited hearts that the Trio made their way to Transfiguration.

This was going to be one hell of an adventure- bigger than anything they've had yet. And mind you, they brought down the biggest Dark Lord since Grindelwald.

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><p><strong>Soooo what do you think?<strong>

**I'm so sorry for the late update. I had absolutely no time to write. You'll find out why on my profile page. The only thing I can say is: IGCSEs.**

**Anyway please leave reviews! As you know reviews=love! Also, let's say…10 reviews for the next chapter? **

**Thanks lovelies!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello lovelies! I know I said I'd update Saturday but to be fair, Saturday was only yesterday. And it was my cousin's 19th birthday so I wasn't able to update. Anyway, here's the 5th chapter. Have fun! =)**

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><p>The day had passed by at an alarmingly fast rate. By the time Hermione Granger trudged her way into the Room of Requirements, her hair was in a halo around her face and her stomach was grumbling. Harry had insisted they speak before going to dinner, and she hadn't eaten much at breakfast and lunch anyway.<p>

"There you two are," Harry smiled. "I was beginning to think Ron had convinced you to go to dinner instead, Hermione."

At Ron's outraged expression, Hermione grinned. "You know, it does seem like something you would do Ron."

At this, the ginger in question threw his hands up. "Always with the assumptions, you two! And she's supposed to be the smartest witch ever!"

Light laughter rang around the room, which had transfigured itself into a circular room similar to the Gryffindor common room. A fat, cozy couch and chairs surrounded a merrily crackling fireplace. A platter on the table held mini sandwiches not unlike those you'd find at a high society luncheon. The image brought back memories of Hermione's highly uncomfortable time spent at those luncheons. Her grandmother had been a debutante, and as Hermione's mother had refused to become a 'pompous, spoilt brat in a poofy dress', Grandmother had been desperate for little Mione to become one.

"Food!" cried Ron. At his words Hermione's stomach grumbled, agreeing.

After the three had gorged themselves on cucumber and ham sandwiches, they settled comfortably in front of the fire. Hermione snuggled in to Ron's side on the couch while Harry took the armchair.

"I'm sorry," Harry spoke up. "I didn't mean to bring any of you into this."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You're a prick Harry, but a prick we love. I don't exactly think you chose to go back in time 20 years or so."

"No you're right. But if we weren't friends, then you two would be celebrating the end of the war."

"I don't think the Weasleys would be celebrating the end of the war," Hermione murmured, eyes cast down and brimming with tears. "Fred…"

At this Ron stoically stared into the fire. "He would have wanted us to be happy…" A single tear rolled down his cheek. "The prankster in him would have wanted us to be letting fireworks into the sky and repairing the shop."

The three of them lapsed into a contemplative silence. It was ten minutes before anyone spoke again.

"W-what happened in the forest, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Harry began. He then proceeded to tell them everything that had happened, beginning with viewing Snape's memories in the pensieve. His voice shook as he described each one in detail. As he reached the part where Snape asked Dumbledore whether his intention was for Harry to die all along, Hermione dug her nails into Ron's arm so deeply she drew blood. However, he didn't complain as his face was flushed red with anger, his teeth grinding painfully against each other.

"I then found nothing left to do than walk to my fate," Harry's low voice infiltrated the room. "Before walking to Voldemort, I pressed the snitch to my mouth. It opened, and in it was the Resurrection stone. It let me see Mum, Dad, Sirius and Remus. They walked with me all the way."

It took him twenty minutes to recount everything that had happened up to the point where he beat Voldemort. His audience reacted perfectly, gasping when he revealed that he was the last and unknown horcrux, holding their breath when he described the face-off with Voldemort, staring wild-eyed as he told of the white place that looked like Kings Cross Station and Dumbledore.

After he lapsed into silence, Ron and Hermione exchanged one look then sprang up from the couch, pulling Harry into a crushing hug. The three of them held onto each other tightly, not willing to let go as the realization of the war and how they could've lost one another really sunk in.

"Well, that settles it then," Hermione said in a light voice as they walked to the Great Hall for some dinner. The sandwiches weren't enough to tide over their hunger. "We're never letting Harry get out of our sight ever again, eh Ron?"

"It's not as if he didn't get into trouble with us watching him!" chuckled Ron.

"Hey! I take offence to that! I can manage fine by myself, thank you very much. Besides, it was always trouble that came looking for me, not the other way round."

They laughed, remembering the trouble of the past seven years. They reached the Great Hall just as dessert was replacing the main courses.

"Hello," Lily chirped as Hermione slid next to her. James was seated in front of the redhead, as she had coerced him (or more like, flipped her hair and commanded him) to go over the prefect assignments with her. Next to him were Sirius and Peter. Remus was seated on Lily's other side.

"Hi. What are you doing?" Harry asked, looking at the parchment papers littering the space in front of his father and mother. They seemed to be arguing, James obviously fighting a losing battle.

Sirius grinned at Hermione, "They're divvying up the prefect assignments. Evans doesn't want to patrol with Prongsie over here." He clapped James on the back before taking a bite of treacle tart.

Lily huffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "That's because he won't take his duties seriously! Last time, we found a snogging couple he told them there's an unused broom cupboard on the second floor that's perfect for the type of activities they're pursuing! He's going to have my badge taken away and I will not allow that."

"Aw, c'mon Lily," the animagus pleaded. "I won't do it again, Merlin! Haven't you ever wanted to get it on with someone before? I was just helping them."

At his words, Lily grew as red as her hair, stammering before muttering and grabbing her stuff. Standing up, she threw James a glare then walked off.

"Did she just call me a butt-faced prick?"

"I reckon so, mate."

Harry pushed a goblet of juice into Hermione's hand. "Drink, eat something. You need it."

She smiled at him gratefully before sipping the cool liquid.

Remus, who had watched the exchange, narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. The newcomers seemed to share a bond beyond simple friendship, each other's movements complimenting and accommodating those of the other two. When a Ravenclaw dropped a sack of books on to the bench behind them with a resounding thwack, Hermione jumped violently and drew her wand, just as the two wizards next to her did. It was a peculiar dynamic they shared.

His musings were cut short when a spoonful of apple crumble flew at him. With lightning quick reflexes, he dodged the missile, allowing it to land on a younger Gryffindor settled two seats down from him. He looked up to see Sirius raising an eyebrow at him.

"On your monthlies, Moony? Been calling your name for ages, you git."

Remus shook his head and glanced at Harry and co. before asking Sirius what the heck-he was far too polite to say hell-he wanted.

"I said," the irritated Black enunciated clearly as if his friend was a five-year-old, "can I borrow your Potions essay? And don't tell me you didn't do it yet because it's our first day back. I saw you doing it during lunch."

* * *

><p>In the Seventh Year girls' dormitory, Hermione was officially introduced to her year-mates.<p>

On four of the six beds, five girls were seated. Lily was plaiting the hair of a pretty, mocha-skinned girl, whose shiny locks of brown hair were flowing down her back.

"Hello!" the girl twittered, waving both hands at Hermione. "I'm Dorcas Meadows! You must be Hermione Granger!"

Dorcas' sentences seemed to all end in an exclamation mark. Her face held an excited expression that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her pretty features.

"Ooh, the new girl!" a blonde exclaimed from the bed next to Hermione's. "_Love_ your complexion. See, Lily, I told you every one has got a prettier complexion than me."

Lily laughed. "Why don't you introduce yourself first, Alice?"

The blonde laughed merrily. "Of course, silly me! Alice Wickward, soon to be Longbottom. Nice to meet you." She held up a hand, a glittering ring on her finger.

A girl with ink-black tresses waved a hand at Hermione. "Hi. I'm Emmeline Vance."

"Emme, you should try to infuse _less_ enthusiasm into your voice," a redhead spoke up in droll voice. Her hair wasn't as red as Lily's and was cut short in a pixie cut with long bangs that reached her chin. Her eyes were silvery-grey and lined with black liner. "I'm Marlene McKinnon."

Hermione smiled at them. "It's nice to meet you all. I'm Hermione Granger." Her eyes started to fill with tears as she remembered Alice Longbottom in the mental ward of St. Mungo's, Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows, murdered, the latter by Voldemort himself. Emmeline Vance, who fought alongside her before being killed. Lily Evans Potter, who died protecting her son. Standing in that dorm room, Hermione felt like a traitor. She wanted to yell at them to run, to hide. She knew their fates and couldn't say a word for fear of disrupting the future.

So she sniffed quietly, kept a smile on her face and dumped her bag on her bed.

"Where were you last night? I woke up and your bed was empty," Dorcas wiggled her eyebrows.

"Uh, y-yeah," Hermione stammered.

Alice smiled, tilting her head. "And I heard Sirius say you were in the boys' dormitory. _Whatever_ could you be doing there?" Her voice lilts wonderingly, her eyes flashing with mirth.

"I couldn't sleep," Hermione offered simply.

"So you went and slept next to your friends?" sighed Dorcas. "Lucky! I wish I had a guy friend I can go to when I can't sleep."

Marlene laughed loudly. "Knowing you, you'd sleep with him, not next to him!"

A pillow fight ensued as Dorcas insisted that she was not a slut simply because she enjoyed sex.

After cleaning up the mess of feathers, the girls got changed into their sleeping gowns, Hermione once more wearing the white gown-so kindly labeled a slip by Sirius- and tucked into bed.

The minutes ticked by as one by one her companions fell asleep. She watched the seconds go by on her bedside table clock. She felt strangely alone, even though there were five other girls lying next to her. Their breathing wasn't the steady, heavier cadence of Ron and Harry's.

Slowly, she tiptoed out of bed and down the stairs, retracing last night's steps to the Seventh Year boys' dormitories. Slowly pushing the door open, she found that the boys were all indeed awake. They all turned to stare at her when the door creaked.

She stood there, scuffing her bare feet on the bare rock of the hallway outside their dorm. Her eyes found Harry and she murmured, "I couldn't sleep."

Her best friend beckoned her in, moving to allow her some space on his bed as the eyes of all the boys trailed after her. Silently, Harry handed her a shirt of his to wear over her dressing gown.

The silence in the room was broken when Sirius smirked at her. "Nice legs, love."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Nice face, _love_. Want me to hex it off?"

The animagi in the room guffawed at her, liking the fact that she wasn't going to take Sirius's innuendos lying down, pun not intended.

"It's time to sleep," Remus sighed at his friend's antics. "Stop being a prat Sirius and leave the girl alone."

Hermione shot him a smile. He decided he liked her smile.

Ron climbed under the cover and extinguished his bedside light. "Night."

The rest of them copied him, leaving Harry and Hermione seated on Harry's bed. Harry jerked the curtains closed while Hermione cast a silencing spell so no one could hear them.

"Thank you Harry," she whispered even though they weren't going to be overheard.

"No need to thank me, Mione," he yawned, pulling back the covers so both of them were able to climb under.

He lay on his back and she snuggled into his side, laying her head on his chest, a hand resting on his stomach. He placed an arm around her waist and the other under his head. "Night, Mione."

She leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, hand fisting in his shirt. "Night, Harry." The covers were pulled over them.

On the other side of the room, Sirius, James, Remus and Peter had cast their own silencing charms. The pulled out similar books that allowed the others to see what they wrote.

'There's something weird about those three.'

'I agree, Padfoot. There's definitely something going on with them.'

'Did anyone notice how emancipated Hermione looks? She looks as if she's been starved for months.'

'You and your big words, Moony. But you're right. That's not to say she's not sexy…'

'Keep it in your pants, you horndog. Pun intended.'

'Aw, Prongsie, you're just too in love with Evans to notice other girls.'

'Let's keep this conversation on track.'

'Sure, sure, Moony. I want to find out the story behind those three.'

'But how?'

'Exactly Wormy, how? We can use Veritaserum.'

'We are not using illegal methods, Sirius.'

'Moony's right. I don't want to lose my badge over this. Lilypad will skin me alive.'

'Pretty sure she'd throw a party actually.'

'Shut it, Padfoot.'

'Let's continue this conversation later. I want to sleep.'

'Night.'

'Night.'

'Night.'

'Night, prats.'

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? Remember, reviews=love, so review please! Let's say...15 reviews for the next chapter? =P<strong>

**I tried to make this chapter long but it just didn't want to get written. Expect things to pick up in a few chapters though.**

**Also, if you're interested at all: I've published a collection of short stories and poems on Amazon Kindle Publishing. They're selling for 2.99 dollars only, so if you can check it out I'd be grateful.**

**Shamelessly plugging myself, ha!**

**Anyhow****, here's the link: A-State-Of-Dreaming-ebook/dp/B008BKQTG0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1339935474&sr=8-1&keywords=a+state+of+dreaming**

**See you later, lovelies!**


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